Always By Your Side
by rukia23
Summary: Three-shot now. They had made a promise. They were always supposed to be by each others' sides. Mello/Oc. Eventually.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I don't own Death Note

**Always by Your Side**

"I promised, didn't I? That I would always be by your side." She smiled softly, her delicate pink lips tilting upwards and the smooth, pale skin around her green eyes crinkling.

"Yeah, but-"

"Don't worry about it, Mel," the girl cut in, taking his hand in hers and entwining their fingers. She stared at their hands for a moment before looking back up into the blue eyes of the blond boy that was staring at her, his emotions unreadable on his blank face. "Matt's gone and you're all I've got left. If you're not going to be here, then there's no point in me being here either."

"Al..."

"It's already done, Mello. At least we know it'll be peaceful, right?"

* * *

Six years earlier...

A teen girl with hair so pale it looked almost white stared boredly out of the window of an expansive English manor. The manor served as an orphanage for children who were extremely talented and had wound up without anyone to take care of them. For her, she couldn't remember anything except the orphanage and somehow thought that it made her lucky. Unlike some of the other children who remembered their families and in turn missed them and suffered, she had only ever known the people at Wammy's House, they had taken her in when she was only two and had rescued her from a life of foster homes.

She was grateful for that too. Had she not been brought here, she would never have had the opportunity to really expand her mind nor would she have made the friends she had. Of course the list of people she considered her friends was fairly short, consisting mainly of just two boys that were the same age as she was.

Eyes narrowing in confusion, the young girl's green orbs watched a fourteen year old blond boy stalk down the sidewalk leading to the gates of the orphanage, the gates would lead him out into the world they had never really been able to experience. Noticing the dutiful way he walked and the bag that was slung over his shoulder, the girl frowned. He was too young to be leaving the home and she thought that perhaps he had lost his temper and was attempting to leave though she doubted he would make it out of the gate.

Glancing around, her eyes noticed the older man standing closer to the building, he was watching the blond go with a saddened frown, but he was doing nothing to stop him. Eyes once again moving to the blond boy, the young girl felt a sudden panic in her chest and stood abruptly from her seat. She ignored the surprised looks of her classmates and the annoyed questions from the teacher as she darted from the room and down the hall.

It was chilly outside and without a coat, goosebumps immediately formed on her exposed arms as they pumped at her sides. Her worn black tennis shoes slammed against the flagstone path and echoed through the quiet courtyard, she sped past the older man, who called her name worriedly, and towards the gates of the orphanage that had already closed behind the blond boy she had seen from the window.

"Mel!" She shouted, trying to speed up as a taxi pulled up and the blond opened the back door. "Mel!" She shouted again, but the boy ignored her and tossed his bag into the backseat of the car and began to climb in himself. "Don't you dare ignore me, Mello! Look at me, dammit!"

The boy's icy blue eyes finally looked over the car door at her, he looked angry and frustrated, but that was really nothing new for him.

"What's going on, Mello?" The girl asked, running up to the gate that had already shut and locked behind him.

"I'm leaving," he answered bluntly.

"Were you even going to say anything?" The girl asked, tears beginning to fill her green eyes. "Were you even going to say goodbye?"

"Go back inside, Al," the boy replied, lowering himself into the car.

Angrily hitting the gate with her palm, the girl shouted in frustration. "How can you leave without saying anything? We made a promise, remember, that we'd always be by each others' sides. You can't tell me you've forgotten that!"

"I never promised anything," Mello said before pulling the car door shut.

The slamming of the car door echoed loudly in her ears as she grasped onto the iron gate and watched the car drive away feeling confused, sad and angry over the departure of one of the two boys that she considered to be her best friends.

"Alison, dear," a kind voice spoke up from behind her. "It's rather cold out today, you should get back inside."

She shook her head and sniffed, holding back the tears that were threatening to fill her eyes and pour down her cheeks.

"He's not coming back, Alison, I'm sorry."

"Why?" She asked, turning around to stare up at the older man that helped to run the orphanage. "Why did he leave, Roger? He didn't even say goodbye."

"L has died, so has Watari. Both were killed by Kira while in Japan. Unfortunately, a successor was never named to replace L and Mello refused to work together with Near as I suggested. He decided instead to leave and do things in his own way. "

"L and Watari... They're... but..." Shocked by the news, the girl could only stare blankly at the older man before a shiver wracked her body and he put an arm on her shoulder to guide her back to the house.

Once back inside, Alison stared at the tile floor as she walked to her room and ignored everyone and everything else around her.

"So he really left, huh?" A light, boyish voice asked.

Booted feet fell into step beside her, but she didn't answer the question he had asked.

"You alright, Al?" The boy asked.

She didn't answer again.

"Hey," the boy put a hand on her shoulder and she blankly looked up into his eyes that were obscured beneath a pair of large orange goggles. "Are you-"

"I'm fine, Matt," she cut in, shrugging her shoulder out of his grasp and walking away without another word.

With a sigh, the goggled teen rubbed at his disheveled dark brown hair and watched Alison walk aimlessly away.

* * *

"Hey, Matt, did you get that information I asked for? The F.B.I are being all antsy and they want our files tomorrow. They want to know what we see and what we've figured out. Honestly, I think they just think we're stupid kids and are useless." A young woman walked into the living room of a nice, modern hotel suite, tossing her gray blazer onto the arm of a chair before pulling her platinum blond hair out of the bun it had been in all day. Now wavy from having been tied up all day her light locks fell a few inches past her shoulder blades, a stark contrast to her dark blue shirt.

"Just hold on a sec," a brown haired man mumbled over a cigarette while focusing on the large flat screen television that was depicting a colorful street racing scene of a video game he was really into.

Walking behind the couch he sat on, the young woman pulled the cigarette from the man's mouth and walked around to the coffee table where she extinguished it on a dirty plate with a few uneaten french fries.

"Hey!"

"I've told you before not to smoke inside, it's gross," the young woman said, plopping on to the opposite side of the couch. "You want to grab dinner or did you eat already? I was thinking we should go get Indian food."

"Sounds good, A.J.," he replied playfully, grinning as he felt her glare on him.

She whacked the man beside her upside the head and gave him a dirty look. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? The name is Alison. I can't stand that alias. Makes me sound like a guy."

"Ah, dammit, I just crashed," Matt complained, tossing the game controller he had been holding onto the table.

"Good, now you have time to at least go brush your hair before we go to dinner," Alison replied, ruffling Matt's already unruly hair and sticking her tongue out at him and jumping up from the couch before he could try to tickle her. "I'm going to change, I've been in this stupid suit way too long. Be ready to go in five, got it?" She called over her shoulder as she skipped to her private bedroom.

* * *

"Any news on the Kira case?" Alison asked, adjusting the loose, low cut black top she wore so that the pink lace camisole beneath was more noticeable and and it didn't look like she was wearing nothing beneath the shirt. A silver cross hung from her neck, resting on her chest as she propped her head up on her palm, tapping he manicured fingers against her cheek.

Matt shook his head. "Not really. Haven't heard anything in awhile."

"Oh," Alison replied, sounding rather disappointed in the answer she received as she stared into the spiced tea in front of her.

"You could always just ask if I've heard anything about Mello, that's what you really want to know every time you ask me that question, isn't it?"

Alison frowned. "I don't give a damn about Mello. I just want to know how close they are to catching the bastard that killed L and Watari."

"Right, my mistake," Matt said.

"The ass left without even saying goodbye, why the hell should I worry about him? He obviously hasn't worried about us or we would have heard something from him in the last three years."

Matt nodded, thinking it best to remain silent and let the young woman brood.

* * *

Black high heeled pumps clicked on plain mirror like white tile, the sound echoing through the quiet lobby as she neared a wall of elevators. Pushing the up button on one, Alison waited for the doors to open before stepping into the contraption and pushing the button that would take her to the ninth floor. The journey was quick and smooth and the doors slid open after a few seconds to let her out into yet another lobby. Her phone beeped and vibrated in her pocket, she pulled it out, glancing at the number only to frown when she didn't recognize it and push the ignore button.

She walked straight ahead to a dark wood enclosed desk where a sandy haired man in his early thirties sat speaking politely on the headset that was hooked over his ear. He pressed a button on the ear piece a moment after she approached.

"Good morning, Miss A.J." He greeted warmly, his dimpled cheeks brightening. "Everyone's waiting for you in the board room."

"Thank you," she smiled and walked around the desk to pull open a glass door that made a quiet clicking sound behind her as the electronic locks slid back into place.

A manila envelope in her hand, she walked dutifully past the cubicles and the glass enclosed offices until she reached a room also walled in by crystal clear glass where four stern, older men sat around a rectangular table, and stepped inside. The noise from the outside disappeared, the seals and the soundproofing on the meeting room were top of the line and not one single word regardless of how loudly it was spoken was going to escape or enter this room.

"Your files, gentleman," Alison said, tossing the manila envelope onto the top of an oak table so shiny the surface was practically glowing.

"That's it," an older man with graying hair and plain blue eyes asked, sitting back in his leather chair to stare incredulously at her.

"That's it. I don't include useless information in my reports," Alison replied with a false smile.

A man in a black suit with a white button up and a black tie, picked the envelope up from the table. He was clearly the one in charge seeing as how everyone quieted and turned their attention to him. He was tall, it was easy to tell even while he was sitting down and the stern set of his face that was beginning to show signs of age commanded that he be respected.

Opening the envelope, the man removed the contents and slowly leafed through them, his facial expression never changing.

Alison remained silent as she stood at the opposite end of the table, she adjusted the sleeve of her beige blazer and wished that she had worn a different outfit. The matching beige skirt was cute and she liked the way it flowed around her knees, but it was always cold in the meeting room here and she could feel the goosebumps starting to form on her arms and legs. She resisted the urge to shiver or show that she was uncomfortable in anyway, the four men that were in the room would notice and they would think it was because she was hiding something from them or had been unable to complete her assignment.

The door opened behind her allowing a brief cacophony of noises to enter before it slid shut and everything fell silent once again. Glancing to her side she saw that the man to have entered was younger than the rest with somewhat long, but well groomed black hair. He was dressed in a pressed gray suit with a white shirt and a boring black tie. She smiled at the man and nodded to him in greeting.

"Well, I guess the stories about you and your friend are true. You've amassed a great deal of information that we don't have and your report on the state of the bodies appears to be excellently written. Surprising for someone your age," the man at the head of the table said, setting the papers down to stare at Alison.

"How old are you anyways," the newcomer asked with a curious smile.

Alison smiled her usual mysterious smile, she was used to these sort of questions from the young man. His name was Stephen Gevanni and he was a young prodigy making his way up the ranks of the so quickly that he had taken quite a few people by surprise and ended up being both hated and respected by the men and women he had surpassed in hardly anytime at all. "That information is classified. As you're already well aware."

"Everything about you is classified," one of the other men grumbled.

"It's hard to trust the work of someone we know nothing about," another argued.

"Whether or not you trust my work is of no matter to me. Just remember gentlemen, I came here because the President of the United States requested the help from.. Well, let's just call it an agency, that I'm affiliated with. If you have any problems with my work, feel free to let him know."

"I don't think that will be-"

A sudden beep and a vibrating sound halted the older man's words as he lifted a brow that was clearly not amused as Alison pulled a top of the line phone from the inner pocket of her blazer. She frowned at the screen that was displaying a local Los Angeles number that she didn't know, the same number that had called minutes before, and hit the ignore button before putting the phone back in her pocket.

"I apologize for the interruption, please-" there was another beep and the phone vibrated again. Frowning, she pulled the phone from her pocket and looked up at the men again. This time she did recognize the number. She pushed the answer button, ignoring the looks of disapproval and brought the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Your next assignment has been decided. There is a vehicle waiting outside for you," a male voice she didn't recognize told her authoritatively.

"Understood," Alison replied, hanging up the phone and looking back up at the men who were staring at her. "If you'll excuse me, I do believe that my work here is done." She inclined her head to the group of now scowling men, noticing that the only one not scowling was the younger man that had last entered the room. She gave him a barely there smile and turned to leave.

She stared at the screen of the phone, not recognizing the number it was displaying and wondering what the odds were that someone would have actually accidentally called her. It was a very slim chance that the person calling was doing so accidentally, after all, her number wasn't one that could be reached just by accident. Hesitating, she hit the ignore button once again.

"Wrong number?" the young man asked.

"Most likely," Alison replied with a slight chuckle.

"So what are you going to do now that you're done here?"

Alison shrugged. "Whatever my next job is," she answered honestly.

"Do you ever do anything other than work? Like go out to dinner?" The man asked casually.

"Sometimes," Alison replied with a nod and a half smile at the innocent flirting.

"Don't suppose you'd be up for dinner tonight, would you?"

"I'm sorry," Alison said apologetically. "I really can't."

"You can't or you won't?"

She let silence envelope them for a moment before sighing and meeting the young man's eyes. "Both. I'm sorry, you've been really nice and I love your ties, but I really shouldn't... Besides, I've already been assigned another task."

"Ok, alright. Just thought I'd try one last time before you disappeared."

"It was nice meeting you, Stephen," Alison said, sticking her hand out to shake the handsome man's.

"Nice meeting you too..." He let himself trail off while looking expectantly at Alison. No one in the building knew her real name, she always used her alias, A.J., when working cases.

She sighed, giving the young man a look that clearly said she knew what he was up to. After a moment, she shook her head and let out a breath. "Alison," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Alison. See you around."

"Maybe," she conceded with a nod as the elevator door slid open. Her phone beeped and vibrated again, this time she answered the call without really thinking out of habit. "Hello?"

"Alison?" A voice she thought sounded familiar asked.

"Yes," she replied hesitantly.

"It's Near."

".. You never call me. What's going on?"

"Have you talked to Matt recently?"

"Not yet, he was asleep when I left our hotel, are you kidding it's not even noon."

"How about Mello?"

Alison frowned. "No, I haven't talked to the bastard in almost four years, you know that. Where's this going, Near? I just finished a job and have another one to report to get to."

"I'm already aware of that, Alison. The car waiting for you outside was sent by me. It'll take you to the airport."

"What about Matt? We work always work together, I'm not leaving without him."

"You don't have a choice."

"Excuse me? What do you mean I-"

"Mello contacted him late last night, he left this morning. The hotel security cameras caught him leaving. He left you a note, the driver has it."

Her jaw clenched and her hand tightened around her phone as she walked through the lengthy lobby of the federal building. As she neared the doors she could see the black sedan with its dark tinted windows and the very official looking suited man waiting besides it. She had no doubt it was her he was waiting for. She pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up on Near, she hit the speed dial button that had Matt's number programed into it and brought the phone back to her ear as she pushed a glass door open and stepped outside. The phone line went immediately to voice mail and frustrated, Alison hung up only to have the phone vibrate, she answered it without waiting for the number to display on the screen.

"Hello?"

Silence greeted her.

Her hand clenched around the phone as she neared the waited car. "Hello?"

"Hey, Al."

Her eyes widened and she gasped, only two people had ever used that nickname for her and she knew that the voice on the other line didn't belong to Matt, she would have recognized the lazy voice. Despite not really recognizing the voice, she had a pretty good idea of who was on the phone.

"Mel?" She asked shakily, approaching the waiting car.

The suited man opened the back car door for her and waited for her to get inside, which she did without hesitation. Anger overwhelmed her as she took her seat.

"What the hell do you want? And where's Matt, I have few things to say to the jerk," Alison snapped.

"You should have answered your phone earlier and you could have said them in person. Look outside, by the alley."

Her head snapped towards the window and her eyes widened. She nearly dropped the phone when she saw Matt with his disheveled hair, green goggles and unmistakable fur lined vest standing by a familiar blond with icy blue eyes wearing leather pants and zip up leather vest.

"Stop the car," she shouted at the driver as he pulled away from the curb. When he ignored her, she tried to reach for the door handle, but the door wouldn't open. She cried out in frustration and slammed her hand against the darkly tinted window. "Dammit, Near," she shouted, knowing that it was his orders that made the driver ignore her and keep her locked inside. She brought the phone back to her ear. "So what now, Mel? You're just going to disappear again, take the only friend I have left with you? Thanks, I really appreciate being abandoned yet again."

"Who said we were abandoning you? You could have answered your phone and come with us, but it's a little late for that now..."

"What?" Alison asked confused, but the line was dead. Frustrated, she let out an angry sigh and sat back against the cool leather. "Where are you taking me?"

"To the airport," the driver replied automatically.

"Do I have a choice in the matter?"

".. No," the man replied. "I have orders to escort you to a personal jet and to make sure you get on it at all costs. Even if I have to use force."

"Of course you do," she grumbled, scrolling through her phone she redialed the number Near had called from. She spoke the second the phone was picked up. "What is the meaning of this, Near? Why am I not being given a choice?"

"You've never been given a choice before," Near pointed out blandly.

She sighed in annoyance. "It's never mattered before!"

"And it matters now? Why? Because you want to be reunited with people who walked out on you? Your skills are a valuable asset-"

"I'm an asset, yes, I know. You have plenty of people at your disposal, Near, so why me?" Alison snapped.

"Because I can trust you."

She shook her head and hung up the phone, tossing across the backseat and letting her head fall back onto the headrest. She should have expected the answer she had gotten, after all, she and Near had grown up in the same place and they both fully understood their positions. They both also understood that it was hard to trust anyone that they didn't know and that didn't and couldn't know them.

Resigning herself to the fact that she had no choice, Alison stared blankly out of the car and watched the city pass by without really seeing any of it. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Mello and Matt, two people who had meant a lot to her that were now out of her life most likely forever.

When the car reached the airport, it was allowed to drive directly to the hanger of a waiting private jet. She waited as the driver got out of the car to open her door for her and when he did, she noticed the way he was prepared to grab her if she tried to bolt.

"I'm not going anywhere, relax," she sighed, stepping out of the car and heading for the small jet.

* * *

Fourteen hours later, a rumpled, grumpy and tired Alison practically collapsed into a chair in her old home, Wammy's House. She was glaring at the white haired teenager that was hunched up on the floor of Roger's office playing with a puzzle.

"Can't this wait, Near? I'm exhausted and want something to eat, a shower and a nap," Alison told the boy grouchily.

"Next week I plan on telling the President of the United States that L is dead and that man posing as him is who I suspect to be Kira. The real Kira."

"That's lovely," Alison replied sarcastically.

"You're going to come with me. You've worked with the United States a lot more than I have, your alias is well known and they'll be more likely to-"

"Let you do whatever you want. They'll do that anyway."

"Probably true, but I'm going to put a team together and I think it would be best to have you there. You're better at dealing with people than I am."

Alison nodded in agreement. It was a fact that Near wasn't very good when it came to dealing with people.

"Besides, several of the people I have in mind to help with the case are people that you've worked with before."

This made her frown and lean forward, her brows drawn together. "You know none of the people I've worked with or for know who I am, right?"

"I'm aware of that, but you've worked with them before so they'll trust you."

"And in turn trust you because I do," Alison finished.

Near nodded.

"Alright," Alison sighed, rubbing at her forehead as she stood up. "I'm going to eat, shower and go to bed."

"Would you rather have stayed with Mello," Near asked as Alison neared the door.

Without turning around, Alison replied, "I don't know. I miss him, but at the same time I'm too stubborn to forgive him for abandoning me just because he was too stubborn to work with you."

"You were always close to Mello, wouldn't you rather work with him?"

She shook her head. "No. Mello is too headstrong and will do anything to beat you... I don't want to be a part of that."

"I see."

"Excuse me."

* * *

One week later, Alison stood beside Near as he twirled his white hair around his finger and spoke to the United States President about the Kira case and revealed his findings. She was dressed in a black pant suit with a white button up shirt with the first few buttons undone. Her pale hair was gathered into a neat ponytail and her makeup was done to make her look older than the eighteen year old she really was. She needed to be taken seriously and making herself look older usually helped with that.

Shifting her weight, she wished she had worn a different pair of heels, the pair of black ones she wore were uncomfortable and pinched her toes.

"Who exactly is this kid," the president asked her.

She blinked at him, but didn't answer. The secret service agent that had escorted them did so for her.

"You could say he's the true successor to L," the man answered.

"Right," the president replied slowly. "And you, you've worked for me before, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir," Alison nodded. "Quite often actually considering I work with the F.B.I and CIA regularly."

"Yes, I've heard about your work. You're supposed to be quite impressive."

Alison smiled. "Thank you, sir. I try my best."

"She'll be working with you then," the president asked.

"Yes. I have a list of people that I would to join the investigation team," Near stated.

"I saw that. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," Near replied, hopping off of the chair he had been hunched on.

* * *

Alison was busy transferring data from a secure server to the server of the headquarters of their newly founded investigation team, ignoring everything else that was going on around her as she focused on her task.

"Told you I would see you around."

She jumped and swiftly swiveled her head around to stare up into the dark brown eyes of a familiar looking handsome man in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and a boring black tie. She blinked a few times before an amused smile found it's way to her lips. "So you did," she replied. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're here, you are supposed to be some kind of genius after all."

"That's what they keep telling me, but I still can't compare to you."

"It's good to see you again, Stephen," Alison chuckled with a nod of greeting.

"It's like it was meant to be," he replied, smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at his flirting. "You should probably join the others or you won't have any idea what's going on," she suggested, gesturing to a group of men and women who were gathering around Near a few yards away. As he started to make his way towards the group, Alison spoke up again. "You may work with the F.B.I, but do you really need to wear such boring ties? They do make them in colors other than black, you know? Like delightfully hideous paisleys and bright obnoxious designs. You should get some. They're awesome."

"I'll keep that in mind," Stephen chuckled.

* * *

For the next several months Alison acted as an assistant of sorts to Near. Everything seemed to be going smoothly and Near had a solid conviction about the identity of Kira, the only problem was how to prove it. They were getting ahead in their search though. The Japanese director of the police had been kidnapped and then murder only hours ago and she already had an inkling she knew who was behind the entire thing. The ordeal had also helped to narrow down the possible suspects as to who Kira was.

"We're getting a call from an unknown number. Only one person could call this phone from a number like that," an older man said, holding a cell phone up to study the screen. His name was Rester, he was one of the people assigned to help the SPK.

"Answer it," Near advised.

After several moments of listening to the conversation, Alison smirked. The move had been rash, but someone had kidnapped Light Yagami's little sister. Light Yagami was currently pretending to be L and heading up the Japanese task force that was charged with catching Kira. However, if Near's thoughts were right, which Alison knew they were, the man was also Kira. The original one and not one of the several fake Kira's that had popped up over the years during the search for the mass murderer.

When the conversation ended and the phone call was over, Alison swiveled around in her chair to look at Near who was sitting on the floor, a tower of dice in front of him while he absently twirled a piece of hair around a finger. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked, sounding almost amused.

"I believe I am. Seems he's finally made an appearance," Near answered.

"Who," Stephen asked from where he sat behind a desk littered with paperwork.

"An old friend of ours," Alison answered, turning back around in her chair so that she could begin the process of making sure that they could track the movements of Light's father who was also on the Japanese task force.

He had been told to go to board a plane and to bring a certain notebook with them. A notebook called a Death Note that had been uncovered by the real L before his death and that was believed to be the tool Kira used to kill people. Of course, this notebook had been locked away by the task force, but despite that the killings had continued making them all know that there were other murdering notebooks in the world. Notebooks they wanted to keep from falling into the wrong hands.

"What do we do," Alison asked. "You know as well as I do that Mello won't let that notebook get away. There's no way we can stop him from getting it."

"I know. We'll just have to track Yagami and help this second L for the time being."

Alison frowned, but nodded.

Alison sucked in a deep breath, her jaw falling open in horror as her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her lips. She blinked several times to clear her vision that was growing cloudy with tears and then took a deep, calming breath. The investigation room was silent, even the sound of Near stacking his dice halted as the young man absently twirled a piece of hair around his finger and glanced at the bodies that lay lifelessly on the floor.

"Alison? Alison?"

Blinking, she let her eyes focus on the black haired man in front of her. She let out a relieved sob and bit at her bottom lip.

"Are you alright," Stephen asked.

She nodded, looking down to lace her fingers with his and squeeze tightly as if trying to ensure that he was real and not just a figment of her imagination. He smiled reassuringly and squeezed back.

There was a beeping noise from her phone and she jumped, pulling the black touch screen phone from her pocket. The words 'Incoming Call' lit the screen, but no number was listed.

Alison released Stephen's hand and answered the phone. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew who would be on the other line. "Hello," she asked shakily.

There was a brief pause before a familiar voice came through the speakers.

"Hey," the voice said grimly.

"Hey?" Alison repeated bitterly, her hands shaking at her sides as tears filled her eyes. "You just murdered innocent people, Mello," she shouted. "I watched them die! Watched one have a heart attack, one shoot himself in the head and-"

"Alison," Stephen said quietly, stepping towards the distraught woman and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Calm down."

"I will not calm down!"

"I didn't murder anyone, Al," Mello spoke up. "And tell your little boyfriend he's lucky to be alive. His name almost joined the rest."

She gasped, her eyes widening. "You're a bastard, Mello. Won't kill anyone yourself, but you'll stand by and let someone else do it for you? Coward," she hissed.

Mello sighed. "I'm sorry, Al."

"That doesn't cut it, Mel, not this time.. not ever," she replied, pulling the phone away from her ear and hanging up. "I'm not feeling very well."

Stephen glanced at Near and gently began to lead Alison away from the computer.

Shaking her head, Alison let herself be led away and began to walk towards the metal door that lead into the building that was being used as a base for their group, the SPK, and their temporary home. "And you wondered why I didn't want to stay with Mello," she said as the door slid open.

* * *

Jolting when her phone rang, Alison turned her head on her pillow so she could see the phone vibrating on the desk as it rang loudly. Wiping at her eyes, reached for it and pressed the talk button without looking at the number. She figured it would be Near calling to let her know what had happened during his conversation with Mello. "Yeah?"

"Hey, Al."

Sucking a deep breath, Alison sat up and grasped tightly to her phone. "Matt?"

"Yeah. How ya doing?"

She laughed emotionally, her eyes filling with tears again. "How am I doing," she repeated incredulously. "I just watched a room full of innocent people die, Matt, how do you think I'm doing?"

"About that... I just called to make sure you were okay... Mello was worried after talking to you."

"It was nice to hear from you, Matt, but I've got to go."

"Al," Matt protested.

"Look I'm glad to hear you sounding well, but I want nothing to do with this. With you, with Mello... Just leave me alone, alright? And tell Mello to go to hell." She hung up then and dropped back against her plush pillow.

* * *

One month had passed since the deaths of the majority of the SPK members and Alison found herself in a hotel room in Los Angeles boredly listening to Near instruct her on the reason why she was there. It seemed the Japanese task force that had been assigned the task of catching Kira had arrived in Los Angeles with every intention of storming Mello's base and retrieving the notebook he had taken. Something they didn't want happening considering the fact that their own group believed that Kira was on the Japanese task force, leading it actually.

"I'll wait until they've finished the raid," Alison said. "They'll have the notebook under constant watch I'm sure, but they'll need to have it go through security and customs at the airport. I'll switch it then. I've got an airport security badge somewhere and if that doesn't work I have a Secret Service badge, an F.B.I and even a CIA badge. I'm pretty sure that this won't be a problem. Stop worrying."

"I'm not worried," Near replied blandly.

"Good. Remember that you're not the only sneaky one. I've had a lot of experience in the field and believe it or not, I'm good at what I do. I'll call you when I've got it."

* * *

"We have a slight problem," Alison said tensely into her phone when Near answered. "The base was blown apart in the raid. Soichiro Yagami was severely injured in the blast and apparently shot as were a few others. They got the notebook, but due to Yagami's current condition I'm not sure how I'm supposed to get it at the moment. I don't even know who actually has it. I expected Yagami to have it, he was the one in charge of the raid... Hold on a sec, I've got another call. It might be one of my contacts."

"Hello?" She asked, clicking to the other line.

There was silence and labored breaths on the other end of the phone. Her brows drew together and she frowned.

After a moment a voice spoke up. "I... I'm sorry, Al. For everything."

The line went dead and all Alison could do was blink and stare straight ahead while still holding the phone to her ear. When the phone began to beep loudly in her ear, she finally pulled it away and stared at it. It was still showing that Near was holding on the other line, she knew she should switch over and talk to him, but something kept her from doing it. Ending the call, she hurriedly entered the elevator, and tapped her foot impatiently against the floor as she watched the numbers tick by slowly. When she finally reached her floor, she didn't even wait for the door to ope before slipping out and walking quickly down the hall. Pulling the key card out of her pocket for the room, she opened the door and let the door click shut behind her.

Hurrying to her laptop, she turned it on and typed the number Mello had called from into a search box. A few seconds elapsed before an address popped up on the screen.

"A pay phone," she muttered absently, frowning. Biting at her lip, she looked at her phone as it began to ring. Near was calling her back, probably wondering what had happened and what her plan was to retrieve the notebook.

Closing her eyes, she made a rash decision and leaped up from the chair she had sat down in and ran out of her room.

* * *

It may have only been late morning, but the area of south Los Angeles she found herself in was an area that would have been best avoided at all times of the day. She tried to blend in, to not draw attention to herself, but in her expensive white striped black suit skirt and partially unbuttoned black silk blouse, that was easier said than done.

"What's up, honey, you lost? I'll give you directions," a man cackled beside her, he stunk of booze.

Alison ignored him and kept walking, not once even looking at him. She had less than a block left to go before she would reach the phone where Mello had called her and she was hoping that she would be able to find him or at the very least find answers that would lead her to him.

"Aw, come on, don't be like that," the man she had ignored insisted, following along beside her. "I'm only trying to help."

"I don't need your help, now get the hell way from me," Alison spat, still not looking at the man.

"What'd you say?" The man asked, his voice growing dangerous.

She tried to walk faster, tried to think of an escape that didn't end badly, but she froze when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

"She said to get the hell away from her," a voice spoke up threateningly.

"Ah, is that what it was, sorry, sorry," the man chuckled nervously, putting his hands up and backing away from her.

"What the hell were you thinking," a gruff voice asked.

Alison jolted when an arm was wrapped around her waist and her body collided with that of someone in a long sleeved, hooded black jacket. The hood was lined in fur, obscuring the face beneath it. There was the unmistakable scent of smoke and a sickening burnt smell wafting from the man who had grabbed that was just as tall as she was in her three inch heels. Bits of blond hair stuck out from beneath the hood of the jacket and Alison tried to get a closer look at the man's face just to be certain that she was right in believing that it was Mello.

"Mello," she questioned uncertainly.

"Who else," he answered harshly.

"What's going on? What-" She had stopped and shaken her old friend's arm off of her, in doing so she had gotten a good look at his face and the burnt skin on the left side. Her eyes widened and she reached forward to push his hair out of the way. "What the hell happened?"

"I blew myself up, obviously," he replied, glancing around the street suspiciously.

"Where's Matt?" Alison asked worriedly.

"He wasn't there," Mello answered, he sounded tired and she could hear the pain in his voice.

"Good," she said, relieved to hear that her friend was alright. "Where is he then?"

Mello shook his head. "I don't really know. I couldn't get him to pick up his phone."

"What's his number," Alison asked, pulling her phone from the small handbag she carried.

Mello rattled off the number and Alison noticed how he was beginning to lean on her.

"Hey there, beautiful," Matt said jovially when he picked up the phone. "Didn't think I'd be hearing from you. What's-"

"I need your help," Alison cut in beginning to pant for breath as she held Mello up as best she could. "It's Mello, he's hurt pretty bad."

"Where are you?"

Alison gave him the cross streets in rush and grimaced when Mello went completely limp. She held onto him and kept him right, sagging under his weight. "Hurry," she said before hanging up the phone and tossing it into the street where it shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces as a car ran right over it.

Looking around, Alison knew she had to get out of sight. If anyone called the police before Matt got there it would be a problem. It would also be a problem if someone tried to attack her, pulling Mello's gun from his waist, she checked the magazine and tucked it into her skirt against her back, pulling her shirt loose to hide it from view. Hefting Mello up, she dragged him into an alley and set him down to kneel in front of him.

She moved the hood of his jacket aside slightly to get a better look at the burn she had seen on his face only to see that it wasn't just his face. A small portion of the left side of his neck was also burnt, but on closer inspection she noted that the burn was more of a heat burn than a direct flame burn. Instead of singeing his skin, the heat from the blast he had been in had practically melted it.

"Jeez, Mel," she whispered, pulling his hood back over his face with a sigh.

Not wanting to sit down, she leaned into a building and watched over the street so she would see Matt coming. What she hadn't expected was for a car to come barreling down the narrow alley, startling her when it stopped with a screech a few feet away. She pulled the gun from behind her back and raised it steadily as the driver's door opened.

"Chill out, beautiful, it's just me."

"Matt," Alison sighed, shoulders slackening as she tucked the gun back into her skirt.

"Help me get him in the car," Matt asked.

"Alright."

Alison helped get their injured friend into the backseat and was about to climb into the front seat when Matt asked, "You're coming with?"

She looked up at him, surprised. Glancing into the backseat and the injured boy that had once meant so much to her, she nodded. "Yeah."

Matt nodded. "Then lets get going before company arrives."

* * *

~A/N~

This was originally going to be a one-shot, but it got too long. At least I thought so anyway.

Anywho, I had promised a Death Note one-shot some time ago after a poll and I had given myself a prompt, the first few lines actually, but never seemed to be able to write anything after that. Until now. Hopefully, this really late short story is enough to make up for the wait.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- Still don't own Death Note

So this is now a three shot. Too much going on to put in two chapters.

**Always By Your Side, Continued**

"Hand me the antiseptic," Alison instructed, eyes never leaving the burns she was carefully cleaning and treating with ointment to help ease the pain that Mello had to have been in. It was hard to tell how much pain he was in at that moment though considering that Alison had slipped a crushed up sleeping pill into a soda he had asked for while trying to refuse to let her help him.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Matt asked.

Alison frowned. "I think he'll be fine, the burns are bad, but they're treatable.. After I clean everything, I'll cover them to help prevent an infection. After that, he'll just have to deal with me taking care of the burns since I know he won't do it."

"What made you go after him," Matt asked after a few moments of watching Alison diligently cleaning and sanitizing Mello's burns.

Green eyes briefly meeting Matt's goggle covered ones, Alison frowned and shook her head. "I don't know. When I heard him on the phone I thought..." She shook her head again and sat back, pursing her lips. "I thought he was dying, he sounded so horrible and so... lonely and sad. I guess I panicked. I looked up the number he called from and traced it back to a pay phone. After that I wound up in the middle of south Los Angeles and you can pretty much figure out the rest on your own."

"Thought you hated him."

She shook her head and looked down at her hands. "..No. I never hated him. I was just too stubborn to admit that I loved him. Don't look so surprised, Matt," Alison said, a slight smirk on her face as she looked back at her friend. "You've known, haven't you?"

Matt grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, but I never thought you'd admit it. Now if only he'd do the same." He bobbed his chin in Mello's direction.

Alison chuckled quietly, but there was no happiness in the laugh. It was empty, hollow. "That's never going to happen."

"You never know," Matt replied with a shrug.

"He doesn't love me, Matt. He doesn't love anyone. He's too obsessed with beating Near."

"That's not all he's obsessed with," Matt stated cryptically.

Alison tilted a brow, but didn't say anything more as she went back to treating Mello's wounds.

* * *

When he came too, it took a few moments to fully wake up and get his vision to clear. He could feel the pain of the burns to his face and neck, the sting and heat of them. He could also feel the bandages and knew that despite his protests Alison had treated him after he passed out, probably because she had slipped something into his drink. Sneering, he sat up slowly only to realize that the bed he had occupied was not occupied by only him.

"Al," he questioned, confused as to why she would still be with him since his wounds all seemed to be meticulously treated. He was going to reach for her, but he noticed that her chest was rising and falling slowly and rhythmically beneath the fabric of a white tank top and that her eyes were closed.

Mello put his hand down and frowned at the sleeping woman. Her lips were parted in her sleep and he could see the lines beneath her eyes that showed just how tired she must have been. He wondered how long she had spent taking care of him and just how long he had been out.

He studied her for a few moments. She had changed a lot of the years, she was no longer the scrawny teenager he remembered her to be. She was taller, her skin was practically flawless and her nearly white hair had grown longer he noted since it had come out of the tie that had held it out of her face and it spilled over her shoulders messily.

He found himself reaching to push the stray hairs out of her face, but caught himself just before his fingers would have brushed against her cheek. Pulling his hand back, he grunted to himself and slid off the bed slowly, wincing at the pain the movement caused. Making his way to the door that he assumed led to a living room since the only other door in the room was open to reveal a bathroom, he opened the door quietly and stepped out into another, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

"You're awake, how you feelin', buddy?" Matt asked, his eyes never leaving the screen of a hand held video game as a cigarette bobbed in his mouth.

"I'm fine," he grumbled sourly, taking a seat on a fairly old brown arm chair.

"Where's Al?"

"Sleeping," he answered with a frown while he fingered the scars on his face. "How long have I been out?"

"We've been here for four days."

"I've been asleep that long?"

"Well.. Al may have had something to do with that," Matt answered.

"She shouldn't be here, Matt."

"Then why'd you call her?"

Mello gritted his teeth and stubbornly looked around the room even though Matt wasn't looking at him. "Where are we?"

"A safe house I overheard some of the guys talking about. It's kind of a mess, but it was all I could think of. Given what happened, I'm not surprised there's no one here. It was pretty funny to see Alison nearly freak out at how much of a mess this place was though. She's been cleaning up whenever she's not taking care of you. Not surprised she passed out, she's exhausted and she won't listen to me when I tell her she needs to slow down and take a break."

"She can't stay here," Mello said.

Matt glanced up at his blond friend. "She doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go, Mel. She gave up a lot to help you. It's not like she can just go back to wherever Near is like nothing happened."

"I'll take care of that," Mello replied, standing up and beginning to go through the house, making faces at the amount of dust he stirred up anytime he opened a drawer or moved anything. "What did she use to knock me out," he asked suddenly.

Matt chuckled. "She used some sleeping pills she got from the store. Nothing fancy."

"Where are they?"

"Why," Matt asked slowly, suspiciously.

"I need them."

"For what? Mel, what are you going to do?" Matt asked, putting his game down to stand up and watch his friend worriedly.

"We're not taking her with us."

"So you're going to drug her?"

"She drugged me first," he muttered.

"For a good reason."

"Yeah, well my reason is good too. It's dangerous for her to be with us. We'll just knock her out and take her to a hospital. It won't be long before Near finds out and she'll be fine."

"No, she won't, Mel. She-"

"Can hear everything you're saying."

"Al..." Matt trailed off.

Alison had appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, arms folded over her white tank top as she leaned into the door frame. Her eyes were watery and her lips were pursed as she stared intently at Mello. "I thought you were dying. I thought I wasn't going to get to see you again, Mel. Do you have any idea how scary that was for me?" She paused for a moment then laughed dryly. "No, probably not, because you've never given a damn about anyone but yourself. I risked everything!" she shouted emotionally. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself down and continued softly. "Everything.. when I went looking for you after you called me." She paused again to take a deep breath and shake her. "I chose to give up everything when I found you, Mello. Do you even know why?"

Mello said nothing, he was guiltily watching the tears stream down Alison's tired, pale face.

"Have you ever cared about anything other than yourself and your goals?" Alison let out a deep breath and stood up straight. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she sniffed and chewed briefly on her bottom lip. "Do whatever you want, Mel. Go ahead and leave. It doesn't matter to me anymore, I'm tired of caring," she murmured, turning her back on him and retreating back into the bedroom.

Matt and Mello watched her shut the door in silence and even after the door was closed they both stared at it for several more seconds. Matt was the first to say anything.

"I'm going to go talk to her, she was-"

"No," Mello cut grimly. "I'll... I'll talk to her."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go get some sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."

Matt nodded and headed off towards the other side of the house. Mello, not ready to see Alison just yet, plopped back down in the chair and put his head in his hands. His face still throbbed dully, the melted skin was healing, leaving a pretty nasty scar as it did so. He knew that he had Alison to thank for the fact that his face was already healing and a lot less painful than he would have expected it to be. Looking around the living room he was in he noted the fact that it was cleaner than he would have expected a mafia safe house to be, probably because as Matt had said, Alison had exhausted herself cleaning. She never could stand clutter, dust and messes.

It was nearly twenty minutes later before he finally found the courage to stand up and head for the bedroom Alison occupied. Not bothering to knock on the door, Mello let himself into Alison's room and quietly shut the door behind himself. The lights in the room were off, but there was still plenty of light filtering in the window from the street. He could see the outline of Alison's body on the bed. She was on her side, curled up with her hands tucked under her head.

The room was silent and he could see the steady rise and fall of her shoulder as she breathed. She was asleep and as he approached her, he cringed guiltily. Her cheeks were red from crying and they were still damp from what he could see. Strands of hair clung to her wet cheeks and Mello sighed, reaching forward to brush them away. He paused before his hand could brush against her cheek and instead sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his head back in his hands.

"What am I doing," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head and glancing back at Alison.

She should have looked peaceful while sleeping, but she looked lost and he knew that it was his fault she looked that way. His heart clenched painfully, a sensation he tried to ignore. He didn't want Alison involved with him, it was dangerous and she was better off with Near even though it irked him to no end that she would be helping him.. and that she had been starting to see one of the men helping work on the case with them.

He thought back to when they had all still been at Wammy's House, she had been so happy then, always smiling and laughing. Always causing trouble with he and Matt and often times helping them escape without ever being punished. If they did get caught she usually tried to take all of the blame, always tried to protect he and Matt. He remembered the look in her eyes the day he left, the devastation she felt when he said he didn't make any promise to stay by her side.

A lie he regretted to that day. It was like she had shattered when he had said that and he had never forgotten the look on her face or the hurt in her eyes.

His thoughts pulled back to the present and he recalled Matt mentioning something about never telling him what Alison had been like after he had left her standing alone at Wammy's gates. Matt wasn't one for keeping secrets from him, unless he was trying to protect him. He wondered how bad things had gotten for Alison and why Matt felt that it would be better not to tell him about what had happened.

Not wanting to wake Alison up, Mello stood up and quietly left the room. He found himself wandering over to the room Matt had disappeared into and letting himself in.

"Wake up," Mello said, nudging the bed Matt was laying on with hit foot.

"Huh," Matt grumbled sleepily, lifting his head to blink at Mello. "Mel?"

"What happened," he asked and when Matt sat up looking confused, he continued. "When I left Wammy's. What happened?"

"You sure you want to know," Matt asked seriously.

Mello nodded, sitting down at the end of the bed and staring at the floor with a frown.

"She just stopped," Matt said. "Stopped eating, stopped talking and over time stopped functioning. It got so bad that Roger didn't have any choice, but to have her hospitalized... The whole thing was pretty traumatic for her. They forced a feeding tube down her throat, strapped her down to the bed so she wouldn't hurt herself or try to take the tube out. They didn't know her well enough to know that the restraints weren't necessary, Al's not the type to hurt herself. She wasn't trying to hurt herself, she just didn't know how to handle all of her emotions and suppressed them instead."

"What happened?" Mello pressed.

"The treatments she was undergoing were hard on her, she started to put up a fight so the doctors started to sedate her. She eventually started eating again, but I think it was only so that the doctors would leave her alone and she could go back to Wammy's. It didn't work very well because she wouldn't talk and she just stared into space for hours at a time. They put her in the psych ward... The things she saw, Mel. None of it was good. She's never been the same, but she's learned to cope."

Mello was silent when Matt finished talking and after a few moments, he stood up and headed out of the room.

"It wasn't your fault, Mel. She doesn't blame you for what happened to her. So don't blame yourself," Matt told him.

Mello said nothing in reply. It was hard not to blame himself when the reason why Alison had been put through everything she was was because he had hurt her. He had left her standing in the cold without even saying good bye or explaining himself to her because he was too damn stubborn to do so.

Once back in the living room, he laid down on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. The house was unnervingly quiet and his ears started to ring. Unable to sleep, he continued to stare up at the ceiling until a muffled noise caught his attention. He lifted his head slightly and listened to see if he could pinpoint the sound and figure out what it was.

After a moment, he could hear something moving around in Alison's room. He heard her say something before he heard her shout in fear. He was off of the couch in a split second, running to her room and throwing the door open. He was confused when all he saw was Alison on the bed, curled up and sobbing uncontrollably.

"Al," he called worriedly, walking to her side and putting a hand on her shoulder. She was having a nightmare he realized when she jerked away from him and started mumbling incoherently to herself. "Al," he said again, sitting on the bed and shaking her shoulder.

She sucked in a deep, gasping breath and sat up. Her eyes blinked and she looked around, searching the shadows for whatever had been tormenting her in her dreams.

"You okay," Mello asked.

Staring at him for a moment it took her a few seconds to realize what was going on. She had had another nightmare. She nodded and laid back down. "I'm fine. Sorry to have bothered you."

"Al-"

"Go away, Mello."

"Scoot over," he said, nudging her in the back.

She gave him an incredulous look and shook her head. "Get out."

"No, now scoot over." He nudged her again and this time she moved. She scooted towards the end of the bed, but before she could sit up and leave, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back down.

"Dammit, Mello," she snapped, trying to push him as he pulled her towards him.

"Stop squirming so much, Al."

"What are you doing, Mello," she asked tiredly, stopping her struggles against him wearily. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"...I'm sorry."

"I told you before that wasn't enough. I-"

"I don't expect you to forgive me, Al. I just want you to know I never meant to hurt you when I left," Mello cut in.

Alison studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing and her brows drawing together. "He told you, didn't he?"

"...Yeah, he told me."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "So now you feel guilty?" She inquired harshly. "You didn't feel anything for years, but now you-"

"Want to make good on our promise."

"What," she asked, confused.

"We made a promise, didn't we? To always be by each others' sides," Mello said, repeating her words to him from years earlier.

All she could do was blink up at him, caught off guard by the statement and the honesty and regret she could see in Mello's eyes. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. "It's too late for that, Mel. It doesn't matter anymore, you broke that promise a long time ago and you haven't looked back since. You feel guilty about what happened after you left, but you shouldn't, it wasn't your fault. Forget about your guilt and don't use it as an excuse to want to make amends."

"I'm not saying that because I want to make amends."

"Then why are you saying it, Mello," she asked wanly.

He was silent for a moment and when Alison opened her eyes to stare up at him, she was a but confused to him looking rather frustrated and flustered. Her confusion turned to surprise when his lips crashed down on hers.

Pushing him away, Alison found herself beyond angry and raised a hand with every intention of slapping Mello. Only he caught her wrist before she could do anything and pinned it above her head. She was going to use the other hand, but she found that one pinned above her head as well. She glared at Mello as he climbed on top of her, he straddled her waist and kept her arms pinned down, keeping her from her moving and attacking him as she badly wanted to do.

Alison shouted in frustration when Mello smirked at her, not at all concerned about the murderous look in her eyes. "Let go of me," she demanded fiercely.

"No," Mello taunted. "I like this position."

Despite her anger, her cheeks flushed red. "Dammit, Mello. This isn't some kind of game. I'm not a toy for you to pick up whenever you feel like and throw out whenever it suits you!"

"No, you're not but you are mine."

"Excuse me?" She asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You are mine," Mello repeated, leaning down so that his face hovered inches above hers.

"Let me go, Mello," she hissed.

"Not this time, Al," he answered quietly, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

The tenderness with which he had spoken and the gentleness of the kiss made Alison freeze and stare up at Mello uncertainly. This wasn't like the Mello she knew. The Mello she knew was rash, emotional and stubbornly refused to let anyone know how he felt.

"Why," she found herself asking softly.

The answer made her breath catch in her throat and she was pretty sure that time actually stopped for a few seconds too.

"I love you."

"I hate you."

"You should."

"You're an asshole."

"You already knew that."

She laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You're sure," Mello asked.

"Sure about what?"

"That you wouldn't rather go back to work with Near. It would be safer."

"Yeah, but you wouldn't be there and I wouldn't be able to keep that promise to always be by your side, now would I?"

"I'm serious, Alison."

"So am I, Mello," she replied. "I want to be with you."

"Why? After everything I've done-"

"Because I love you. I'm not saying that I'm okay with everything you did, I'm not, but... I know you. I know how your head works and I can understand why you did things the way you did," she cut in. "You can let me go now, you know."

Mello smirked. "What if I don't want to?" He leaned closer to Alison's face, his lips centimeters from hers.

"Then, I'll just have to do this," she replied, using her leg to push Mello off of her and onto his back. Within seconds, she was straddling him. "I win."

"You sure," Mello replied, grinning up at her. "Because I'm not complaining."

"True, so I guess it's my loss. Oh well," she said, sitting up before hopping off of him and then the bed. She stretched when she stood up, her arms over her head, allowing her tank top to ride up her side and expose some of her smooth stomach. Her low cut, skinny fit jeans, sat low on her hips and she noticed the way Mello was staring at her."Stop staring. It's rude."

"Where are you going?" He asked when she started to walk away.

"To take a shower. I haven't taken one all day. Then I think I'll go back to bed, I'm exhausted."

She squeaked in surprise when she was spun around before she could reach the bathroom and found herself pinned to the wall.

"You're not going anywhere," Mello half growled at her before his lips crashed down on hers.

At first, Alison was going to push him away, but she found herself relaxing against his body that was pressed so tightly against her own. When his hands unbuttoned her jeans, pushing them off of her waist, she took in a shaky breath and let her fingernails dig into his back. She cried out softly, smacking Mello on the shoulder after he bit her neck and smirked at her triumphantly.

The kissing and teasing continued for several more minutes before Alison let her hands roam down his bare chest, her nails occasionally digging in just a little until she reached the waist of Mello's pants. Since he was wearing pajama bottoms that she had had him put on in his sleepy haze, they easily slid off of his waist.

When he lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around him and pressed her back into the wall for extra support as she gripped tightly to him, burying her face into the right side of his neck and biting the skin there playfully. A moment later, her fingers bent and her nails dug into his back as a hot lance of pain shot through her body.

* * *

The following morning, Alison woke up in Mello's arms. He was possessively holding onto her as he slept and when she tried to move so she could get up, his grip tightened.

Rolling her eyes, she poked him in the stomach. He grunted in annoyance and opened his eyes to glare at her sleepily. "I can't get up and make something to eat if you don't let me go." For a moment, he continued to glare at her, but then let his grip loosen so she could scoot out of bed and head to the bathroom.

Mello had fallen back to sleep a few minutes after she had disappeared into the bathroom and didn't realize the amount of time she spent in there. If he had he might have been curious to know what was taking her so long.

Instead he didn't wake up until he heard Alison moving around in the kitchen and smelled something that made his mouth water and his stomach grumble hungrily. Getting out of bed, he took a quick shower and got dressed, never noticing the bits of pale blond hair in the trash can or the bright box of hair color that was beneath it.

When he walked out of the bedroom, he saw Matt was just coming out of his room too, rubbing his stomach and looking up to grin at him.

"It's nice having a woman around, isn't it?" Matt chuckled.

Mello grunted and walked into the kitchen, stopping in confusion when he laid eyes on the girl that was cooking. It took him a second to realize that it was Alison, she had trimmed her hair so that the look was less conservative and bit more punk looking. She now had bangs that softly covered her forehead and had feathered the hair around her face so that it fell against her cheeks nicely. There were a few more layers in the back and not only that, but there were now fuchsia highlights brightening up her pale hair.

"What the hell," Mello mumbled.

"Like the hair," Matt said, not at all fazed by the change. After all, he had lived with Alison for a long time and she often changed her appearance, especially if she was working in the field and not just in an office.

"Thanks, Matt," she chirped, scrambling some eggs together in a bowl before dumping them into a warm fry pan. "What," she asked when she turned to see Mello staring at her.

"Nothing," he replied.

"Is that... Never mind," Matt said abruptly after trailing off.

Alison looked at him oddly only to see that he was staring at her neck. Her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her neck, turning bright red when she remembered the few marks that she had received during the night. She had meant to cover them up with some concealer, but had forgotten after trimming and coloring her hair.

"So I take it you two worked things out," Matt spoke up after a few seconds, grinning from Mello to a reddening Alison.

"Oh, shut up, Matt," she snapped, throwing the dish rag on the counter at him and spinning around to finish cooking.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Matt said, trying not to laugh at the look on Alison's face. "You're both adults and-"

"Oh my gosh, Matt, shut up," Alison shouted, turning around and putting her hands on her hips as she glared at him. "And don't you dare laugh, Mello!"

"You're going to burn the eggs," Mello pointed out, holding in a laugh of his own.

Growling in frustration, Alison went back to cooking and once the eggs were done, plated everything up and practically threw all the food she had made on the table.

"Told you you were mine," Mello muttered under his breath after she sat down and pointedly ignored them as she began to eat.

She choked on her food and turned to give Mello a seriously ticked off look. When Matt burst into laughter, she rolled her eyes and ignored the two boys while she ate her breakfast.

* * *

~A/N~

Please review.


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